There is a plaque at The Belfry, venue for last week’s British Masters, which announces it as: “The spiritual home of the Ryder Cup.”
Though many might wince at the bold claim, no one could possibly underestimate the profound change that the resort’s Brabazon Course witnessed in the four editions it hosted.
In 1983, the match was in such a bereft state that ABC Sports offered to return $1 million so as not to conduct the broadcast. Two years later, The Belfry was the site of Europe’s renaissance, the clash was revitalised, and now it is a worldwide monster.
Perhaps that self-proclamation is justifiably full of itself, after all.
In truth, the Brabazon could add more plaques and no one would consider it self-indulgent. Its fairways are like European golf’s field of dreams
Commemorative plaques are far from rare in this sport, of course. There is one on Merion’s 18th fairway to celebrate Ben Hogan’s 1-iron blow in the 1950 U.S. Open and another in the rough at Royal Birkdale’s 16th in honour of Arnold Palmer’s escape in 1961.
The Belfry, however, doesn’t stop at one plaque. In fact, the Brabazon boasts another pair out on the course.
The first, behind the tee on the short par-4 10th, recalls the feats of the great Severiano Ballesteros, who was the first man to drive the green, during the European Tour’s Hennessy Cup in 1978. He regularly repeated the strategy in the Ryder Cup, and those thrilling blows are an integral part of his legend.
In the 1989 fourballs, his tee shot found the putting surface, his protege José María Olazábal’s effort landed closer, and then Ballesteros imperiously drained his putt for an eagle. It was his influence on European golf revealed in microcosm: He took aim at the extraordinary, achieved it, inspired others to join him, and then delivered the coup de grâce.
The third plaque lies in the middle of the 18th fairway and marks the spot from where Christy O’Connor Jr. drilled his 2-iron in a critical singles match against Fred Couples, also in 1989.
The Irishman was carrying more than the hopes of his family, friends, teammates, compatriots and continent that day. He was also burdened by memories of a desperate debut in 1975 and a painful captain’s-pick snub 10 years later. The man who had delivered that blow, Tony Jacklin, now stood beside him, urging “just hit it anywhere on the green.”
O’Connor did more than that. The 41-year-old (yes, though silver-haired, he really was nine years shy of the senior circuit) launched a majestic strike toward the three-tiered putting surface where it settled a mere 4 feet from the flag.
The Belfry galleries never relished a shot more gleefully, releasing a boisterous roar that acclaimed an end to decades of incompetence, and elation that a fellow under enormous and obvious strain had come good in such outstanding fashion.
In truth, the Brabazon could add more plaques and no one would consider it self-indulgent. Its fairways are like European golf’s field of dreams: Phillip Price’s nostril-flaring moment of triumph over Phil Mickelson at the 16th; Nick Faldo’s hole-in-one at the 14th; the triumphant final-green putts of Sam Torrance and Paul McGinley.
Americans have dealt decisive blows, too. Paul Azinger’s patriotic resilience was epitomised by his holed bunker shot at the 18th in 2002, but the repeated drives into water on the same hole in 1989 are memorable for all the wrong reasons. So, too, Craig Stadler’s missed tiddler that turned the 1985 match (both that year and forever after).
The game might never forget such defining moments. Thankfully it doesn’t commemorate them. It leaves that to the good stuff.
Matt Cooper
E-MAIL MATT